The Element of Surprise
by InbeTreena
Summary: When Will is given a gift on Valentine's Day, it doesn't take him long to figure out who it's from. But he soon discovers that the biggest surprise isn't the gift itself, but the reason for it being given in the first place... Awful summary, because I suck. Will/Neil slash. Rated for language, boys kissing and other such things...


Author notes: I've come to realise that I usually get in the mood for writing Will/Neil stuff when I'm sad about something because it cheers me up. I've been feeling rather sad lately, so this is what I've produced as a result. I'm not sure whether it's any good or not, but it's finished so I might as well post it. This is the second Will/Neil story I've written based around some sort of calendared event (the last one was a Christmassy one) so I might make that a theme that I do for stories about them. A St Patrick's Day one could be interesting... Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

..

**The Element of Surprise**

It's 7pm, and so ends another soul-destroyingly uneventful day. Sighing tiredly, I kick my bedroom door closed behind me, deliberately knocking the calendar over as I toss my briefcase up onto the desk. I don't need yet another reminder of what day it is, thank you. February 14th. Fucking Valentine's Day. As usual I didn't get any cards, which was made more depressing by the fact that my mother had received three. And in an even more disturbing twist, I could have sworn that the writing in one of them was Gilbert's! My friends didn't fare much better than I did, with Neil receiving nothing and Jay conjuring up his usual pile of blatant forgeries. Simon proved to be the most industrious of us once again, actually doubling his success from last year by receiving two. He might as well have gotten none though, since he proceeded to dismiss both when it became apparent that neither of them was from Carli. It's sad, in a way - seeing him pass up on chances at potential happiness for her sake. Rather ill-advised if you ask me - it's not like she even gives a shit. But I suppose he's free to make his own choices, irrespective of how stupid they may be.

In a conscious effort to maintain equilibrium in the universe, I didn't send any valentines this year either. What would be the point? Even if I did have someone in mind to woo, making the effort didn't get me anywhere last year. In fact, it only served to make my love life seen even more tragic - something I genuinely didn't believe was physically possible until it happened. No... I'm staying well clear of Valentine's Day from now on, for my own sanity if anything else.

Naturally, I have no plans for tonight so I suppose I might as well crack on with a bit of revision. Exams aren't for another four or so months, but I've always found that you can never be too prepared. I spin in the combination on my briefcase and pop it open, only to have something very out of place immediately catch my eye. A magenta envelope sits on top of my binder, alongside a small crudely wrapped gift. Now where on earth did that come from? It certainly wasn't in there earlier. I look at the card more closely and sure enough, it has my name on it. The writing seems very familiar though, rapidly killing any notion of excitement I might have been feeling. I'm guessing this is some sort of elaborate prank courtesy of one of my dickhead friends, since whoever it's from clearly knows me well enough to somehow know my briefcase combination.

Making a quick mental note to change said combination at the earliest available opportunity, I gingerly pick up the gift, which on closer inspection both looks and feels like a book. I can't help rolling my eyes as I start removing the cheesy pink valentine-themed wrapping paper. Let's see what the big joke is this time, shall we? Let me guess... "Losing Your Virginity for Dummies", maybe? A gay porn pop-up book? An exam survival guide, featuring a specialist section on how to control involuntary bowel function?

As I hold the unwrapped book up in front of me, I'm actually rather taken aback by what I see. It's a plush new copy of a book that I'd lost a couple of weeks ago. Well, I say "lost" - what I mean to say is that Jay took it upon himself to toss it out of Simon's car window halfway down the M25. It wasn't a particularly expensive or important book, but it was a very enjoyable one that I was halfway through, so having it so boorishly and inopportunely disposed of had been rather annoying. All things considered, it's actually a pretty thoughtful gift. But who would do such a thing for me, and why?

Driven by curiosity, I tear open the envelope. The front cover of the card bears a fairly generic kitschy Valentine's design – two cartoon bunnies huddled up together under a tree with the words 'To Someone Special' in gold lettering across the top. I open it up to find one solitary sentence bang in the middle;

"_hope its got a happy ending xxx 3_"

A whole three kisses and a heart - aren't I special?

My theory that it can only be from one of the three stooges seems to hold weight, since they were the only people who knew about the book-tossing incident. The writing is too messy to be Simon's, and I very much doubt that Jay has enough in the way of conscience to buy me a replacement for the book he relieved me of. And even if he did, he certainly wouldn't give it to me under the guise of a Valentine's gift! But why would Neil feel the need to do it? I mean, there's no doubt that he's a kind-spirited bloke. It just seems like a rather odd gesture, especially in conjunction with the card.

Intrigued, I decide to pop my coat and shoes on and take the short walk to the local ASDA. Neil mentioned earlier that he was working until eight this evening – perhaps I'll be able to catch him at the end of his shift and get to the bottom of this. Once there, I find myself lingering around the staff entrance, avoiding the suspicious gaze of the security guard as I routinely glance at my watch. Not long to wait now, thank goodness - it's fucking freezing out here... The more I think about it, I'm not even sure why I've felt the need to come here with such urgency. I mean, it's not as if it's a life-or-death matter that I need to discuss with him. It's only a book, for goodness sake. Perhaps my enduring politeness is compelling me to show my gratitude for his gesture as soon as possible. Or maybe I'm just insanely curious as to why he did it... I suppose this is the easiest way for me to get a straight answer out of him. I could have had a private word with him about it tomorrow at school, but that might have proven difficult with the other two constantly nosing about. And I suppose I could have simply texted him also, but that would have given him the opportunity for denial or deception. Striking while the iron's hot in a face-to-face scenario is definitely the best strategy. And I've already made the journey here anyway. No sense in turning back now.

I look at my watch again. It's now eight o' clock on the dot. I don't have to wait too much longer for the staff door to open and Neil to step out of it. He immediately catches sight of me, doing a quick double take before breaking into a wide smile.

'Alright, mate? What you doin' 'ere?'

'I came to see you, actually.'

'Oh, yeah?' he says, pulling his coat on over his uniform. 'What's up?'

Hmm... He seems to be acting casually enough. Stepping closer to him, I reach inside my coat and fish around in the inner breast pocket for Exhibit A. My interrogative techniques leave a lot to be desired, so let's hope he cracks under pressure relatively easily.

'I was just wondering; does this look familiar to you?'

It seems I'm in luck. Neil's reaction is a dead giveaway, his smile clearly faltering as I hold the card up in front of him. He eyes it intensely for a second then shoots me a somewhat scolding look.

'You're not s'pposed t' find out who it's from!'

I smile sheepishly. 'Sorry. It was just rather obvious.'

He responds with a brusque nod, and then drops his head as he starts fumbling with the zipper on his coat. Oh, dear...I hope I haven't made him feel awkward, though I can't imagine why he would. The three kisses and heart notwithstanding, it's probably safe enough for me to assume that he didn't give me a Valentine's gift because he actually fancies me! Maybe he's concerned that I think he does though... I'd best clarify my position.

'So what's this all about then?' I ask softly. 'I mean, if it's meant to be some sort of joke, I think I've missed the punch-line.'

He shakes his head. 'Nah, it's not a joke.'

'Well, what then?'

After finally winning the war with his coat fastenings, he looks back up at me. He stays silent for a moment, clearly contemplating how best to phrase whatever it is he wants to say.

'It's just... You're a good person, yeah? But I noticed that ya never really seem to end up very happy on special days, d'ya? Like, always havin' shit birthdays an' that? Way I see it, that's not fair. So I just wanted to do somethin' for ya, really. To remind ya that you're special.'

Well...I'm not entirely sure what kind of explanation I was expecting, but **that** certainly hadn't occurred to me as an option! I suddenly find myself feeling quite warm despite the bitter night breeze around us. For once, I'm lost for words. I honestly don't know what to say. Neil is starting to look rather uncomfortable though, so I'd better come up with something.

'You...think I'm special?'

Neil shrugs like it's the most obvious thing in the world. 'Yeah. I mean, you're all unique an' different. Unique things are special, int they?'

There are many words that I've heard used to describe my so-called "uniqueness" in the past – "weird", "obnoxious" and "annoying", to name but a few. "Special" is a new one though. I suppose it's quite heartening to think that someone feels that way about me, even if it is just a friend. I smile timidly.

'You're pretty unique too, Neil.'

He grins. 'Yeah? Cheers.'

'Anyway, thanks for this. And for the book. It was very kind and thoughtful of you.'

It genuinely was. Considering Neil rarely knows what day of the week is it, I'm surprised he was even able to remember the title of my book. He continues to grin at me, jamming his hands into his pockets and rocking from side to side. I daresay that he looks a little bashful. Or maybe just cold - it's hard to tell, really.

'S'alright. Findin' it was fun, actually. I'd never been in a bookshop before. It was mental, how many different books they 'ad!'

For some reason, that makes me chuckle. Stupidity isn't a quality that I usually find endearing. Somehow though, Neil's own personal brand of idiocy manages to make him seem rather lovely. That's an acceptable word for a man to use to describe a male friend, isn't it? "Lovely"? Well, regardless of its suitability, it's irrefutably an accurate descriptor – "lovely" is exactly what he is.

'Look, if you haven't got anything better to do right now, why don't we go get some dinner from somewhere? My treat, as a way to say thank you.'

I know it probably sounds a bit weird, asking him to join me for dinner tonight of all nights. But it just seems like the polite thing to do in the circumstances. And even if he's already eaten this evening, Neil's never one to turn down a meal. I can already see the enthusiasm building in his face.

'Really?'

'Yep. Anything you want, you choose.'

His eyes light up.

'Burger van by the park?!'

Oh, brilliant. Food from a roadside vendor? We might as well go foraging through the bins outside McDonald's! But the excitement in Neil's eyes and voice is undeniable, and I did say that it was his choice. I can't very well go back on my word - it would be like giving a toy to a child, then teasingly taking it away again. Despite cringing on the inside, I force a smile and nod.

'If that's what you want, that's what we'll get.'

'Cool! Let's go!'

Neil gestures for me to follow as he eagerly strides off in the direction of the park. I find myself having to pretty much double my usual walking speed in order to keep up with the pace set by his longer legs.

'By the way, how did you know the combination for my briefcase?'

He shrugs. 'Guessed it.'

'The numbers I chose are deliberately meaningless and random, Neil,' I say, naturally sceptical. 'There's no way anyone could have just guessed them.'

'Well, I did.'

'Seriously?'

'Course not, you plonker!' he laughs. 'I'm joking! I'm not psycho or somethin'!'

'Psy**chic**,' I correct him instinctively. 'How did you know it then?'

'Jay told me it ages ago.'

My eyes widen at that. 'Well, how the fuck does **he** know it?'

'Dunno. You should change it, I reckon.'

'I certainly will!'

The walk to the park didn't take us long, with our brisk movement helping us to keep reasonably warm. Neil ordered a large hotdog and chips with an unreal amount of ketchup and mustard on them, whereas I opted for a small bag of lightly salted chips, since they appeared to be the safest and least unappetising thing on offer. Neil suggested that we go find a bench inside the park and have "a night-time picnic", which made me rather nervous considering how dark it was already. I stayed close to Neil as we entered the gates and wandered through the gloom. Frosty wind rustled and howled through the surrounding shrubbery, and wicked shadows seemed to loom out of every corner, starkly reminding me of the fundamental reasons why I refuse to watch horror films. I forced myself to look on the positive side though - stepping outside of one's comfort zone is a good means of building character and to be fair, there were enough lampposts about to provide us with sufficient lighting. And as illogical as it sounds, I felt quite safe simply by having Neil by my side anyway. Maybe it was due to the cheerfulness in his voice as he babbled on about something funny that had happened in his Biology class, or purely his usual unflappable demeanour, but it filled me with the strangest feeling that nothing bad could possibly happen to us tonight. I hoped so - it would certainly make for a nice change if it that were the case.

We eventually stopped to sit at a well-lit park bench under a cluster of trees, and proceeded to eat and chat about nothing in particular. I've always found it pretty easy to have an interesting conversation with Neil. Not interesting in the intellectual sense, but his sporadic ponderings certainly have a way of keeping me on my toes. After a while, I notice that Neil has eaten all of his chips and most of the bun, but has left the meat portion of his food relatively untouched.

'Is the hotdog not very nice?'

He looks at me blankly for a second before vigorously shaking his head. 'No. It's just that it's the best bit, so I keep it for last.'

'Ah.'

As if to reassure me, Neil picks up the foot-long roll of questionable meat in between his thumb and forefinger. I glance over at his untouched disposable fork – I seriously have no idea why I bothered asking for one for him. I don't think I've ever seen him eat using a utensil. He angles his wrist to navigate the hotdog towards his mouth and delicately suckles at a blob of pendulous mustard hanging from the tip of it. For some reason, this simple act draws my attention, and I suddenly find myself transfixed as he starts methodically licking the overload of condiments from the surface of the meat. A devastatingly familiar sensation swells in my insides, and I feel myself starting to blush. My God, what am I doing?

Blissfully unaware of my unusual plight, Neil pauses to lick his lips, savouring a mouthful of ketchup. He moans softly and to my horror, this innocent sound makes my heart skip a little. I breathe deeply to get a grip on myself as he cheerfully returns to the task at hand, sliding approximately half of the hotdog into his mouth and drawing it back out slowly. My jaw drops open as he does the same to the other half, and the stirring inside me becomes increasingly intense. I really need to stop watching him but I can't, intently observing as his glistening tongue trails back and forth along the flesh-coloured length. Speaking of flesh-coloured lengths, my jeans suddenly feel tighter than I ever remember them being. Oh, good grief! I desperately try to tear my eyes away, but they just keep getting pulled back around to him! It's like trying not to look at a car wreck, and a disturbingly arousing car wreck at that! Christ, I think I'm drooling! This is very bad! I shouldn't be objectifying my friend in such a vulgar fashion! Oh my God, just look away! Just stop staring at him, damn you!

Once Neil is happy that his food is sufficiently clean, he bites down on it hard. I wince before hastily returning my attention to my own food, stabbing at a greasy chip with my fork. Luckily, my blatant ogling seems to have gone unnoticed. I'm suddenly very grateful for our darkened surroundings, since my face must be as red as the ketchup Neil seems so fond of. I can still feel my heart going a mile a minute. Seriously, what the fuck was that all about? What on earth is the matter with me? Am I really that easily riled? Maybe Jay's right – perhaps I really could do with spending less time reading and more time masturbating. I casually brush my hand over my lap and can feel that I'm still a little bit excited. Maybe thinking unsexy thoughts will help. Like...Gilbert, naked. With my mum. Urgh! That did the trick! Fucking hell...

'I don't think I've ever done anything like this on Valentine's Day before.'

Neil's meat-muffled voice snaps me out of my haze. I clear my throat, working quickly to regain my composure. Whatever...**that** was, I'm sure I can fret over it later at home in private.

'Done what?' I ask, sounding remarkably casual. 'Eaten dodgy roadside food with a friend by lamppost-light in a freezing-cold park?'

He nods. 'Mm.'

'Well, it's a new one for me too.' As is getting an erection watching my friend eating a hotdog, but I digress... 'Although it pains me to say it, I actually consider this to be one of my more successful Valentine's Days.'

'Yeah, same 'ere. It's nice to spend time wi' someone sometimes.'

'It is, and I feel very privileged that you would want to spend your time with me,' I grin wryly. 'Especially considering my propensity for repelling people. Girls, in particular.'

'Wouldn't worry 'bout that, mate. You're just a grower instead of a shower.'

I nearly choke on a chip at that. 'Sorry, what?'

Neil looks unfazed. 'Ya know, one of them people who get fitter as they get older. Like Carol Vorderman or Kat Slater off "Eastenders".'

'Ah, now I understand.' I nod, somewhat relieved. 'Thanks, Neil. But it'll probably be a while before this ugly duckling blossoms into any kind of swan.'

'Dunno, might not be too long. You've already gotten fitter since when I first met ya.'

...Sorry, did Neil just compliment me on my appearance? I'm pretty sure that he did. Although I'm certain that he meant it platonically, I'm not sure I know the best way to respond to him. Not used to compliments, really.

'Have I?' I blurt out.

'Yeah. I think so, anyway.'

'I...don't feel like I've particularly changed anything about myself in the time that we've known each other.'

'Mm. Maybe that's why then.' He takes another large bite out of his hotdog. ''Cause you're like, all different an' nerdy, but you're not bothered that ya are? Ya just stay the same, even if you get called "twat" or "wanker" for it. That's confident, an' confidence is well sexy.'

'It is?'

He nods. 'Amy Childs said so in "Heat" magazine.'

'Hmm. Suppose it must be true then.'

He grins obliviously at my sarcasm, and continues to contentedly chew on his food. That was certainly an odd little conversation. Depending on how you choose to interpret his words, Neil basically just inferred that he thinks I'm both fit and sexy, at least to some degree. Since I own a mirror and can therefore confirm that I am neither of those things to **any** degree, I'll assume that he's simply talking bollocks in order to cheer me up. Which is nice of him, I suppose. I look across the table and study Neil's face closely. Not being my usual type, I'm not sure if I would describe him as fit. On the odd occasion that another boy does catch my eye, they're usually more like Simon in appearance – quiet, intelligent, conventionally good-looking and not a massive amount taller than me. He's definitely quite handsome though. Neil, I mean. Even with mustard on his chin.

He polishes off the hotdog in a few more bites, licking his fingers clean and wiping his hands off on his trousers. I'm not sure why I bothered getting a napkin for him either.

'Cheers for that, mate.'

I smile – at least he's not totally devoid of manners. 'You're very welcome.'

'Fancy a play on the swings before we go?'

He gestures in the general direction of the nearby kiddies' play-park. Those places have always filled with me with a strange sense of dread, and my head swirls with paranoid thoughts of concealed hypodermic syringes and human excrement. Having said that, I'm enjoying myself in a weird way and don't feel ready to go home yet. Ah, well. I suppose I've come this far. In for a penny, in for a pound...

'Sure, why not?'

We take the short stroll over to the children's play area. Of course, there are no children in it at this time of night. And much to my relief no chavs or drug-dealers either, so we have the place entirely to ourselves. Neil pounces onto one of the swings and I plop down on the one next to his, cringing inwardly at the repulsive feeling of the rusty old metal chains against my fingertips. I swing tentatively, trying to ignore how much colder the air feels as I move through it. Neil, on the other hand, really goes hell for leather, almost as if he's aiming to get over the top bar. Knowing him, he probably is. Eventually he slows down to a halt, staring pensively off into the night sky. I watch him, wondering what he's thinking. There's no point in even trying to guess with Neil. There could be any number of random meanderings going on in that head of his. After a short while, he speaks.

'I'm not sure what I'll be doin' next year.'

I shrug. 'Presumably something better than hanging out with a speccy virgin in a play park? Perhaps you'll have a nice girlfriend to spoil by then.'

'Nah, I mean **all** year. Not really lookin' forward to school being over, to be honest. You're goin' to Uni. Si too. Not really sure what to do with myself.'

I'm rather alarmed by this revelation. It wasn't like Neil to worry about things like that. He looks down at the ground beneath us, watching his feet skitter against the asphalt.

'I'm sure you'll be fine,' I say in my most soothing voice. 'I mean, you already have an employment history, which is definitely an advantage over a lot of people our age. Plus, it's clear that you're generally a decent and honest guy. That's a rarity nowadays. Employers will snap you up in an instant.'

He doesn't respond. Perhaps I missed the main point of his concerns. I try again.

'And you'll still have Jay, who doesn't have a plan either. Not a realistic one, anyway. I'm sure together, you'll muddle your way through post A-Level life somehow.'

He remains silent, still staring resolutely at his trainers. I'm not sure he's even listening to me anymore. Finally, he looks up and I find myself barely recognising the expression on his face. He looks so sad, so...unlike Neil. And I don't like it.

'You'll stay in touch, won't ya?' he says quietly. 'When you've gone?'

Is that why he looks like that? Because he thinks I'll forget about him when I go to Uni?

'We're only in February now, Neil,' I chuckle. 'University is still a long way off for me yet.'

'But ya will, yeah? Like, Facebook an' textin' an' that?'

He looks at me pleadingly, his sapphire eyes wide and desperate. I guess he's really quite serious about this.

'Of course I will,' I say, more sincerely this time. 'And I'll make sure to come home whenever I can.'

'Promise? Just that I reckon I'll miss ya even more if ya don't.'

Again, the fact that he's concerned about me leaving is very surprising. Neil isn't usually one to plan very far into the future, so seeing him fret over something that's not going to happen for months yet is practically unheard of. I suppose it's a massive compliment, in a way. Against my better judgment, I reach over to where he's gripping the chain of his swing and squeeze his hand gently.

'You should know by now that you can't get rid of me that easily, Neil. Like a bad penny, I'll always come back.'

I shoot him a reassuring smile, which he gradually returns.

'Cool...'

Feeling content that he's okay now, I return my hand to its previous position. Just as I'm about to say something else, Neil suddenly jumps to his feet. Apparently newly energised, he laughs and dashes over to the large metal jungle gym on the other side of the play park. I watch him scrabble up a cargo net to a platform before hopping off my swing and following, albeit reluctantly. I've always had a bit of a hang-up about climbing frames and the like. Mum would never let me play on them when I was little, warning me that to do so would put me at risk of certain death by decapitation. Of course, I know now that this is bullshit, but childhood indoctrination is notoriously hard to break away from. By the time I manage to haul myself up the net, I see that Neil has clambered over to an adjacent platform linked to this one by a row of overhead monkey bars. He's squinting off into the distance, grinning in excitement.

'Aw, mate! Ya can see Jay's 'ouse from 'ere. Come look.'

I eye the bars sceptically. There are only eight of them, but I seriously doubt my ability to manoeuvre my way across them successfully. I suppose I could just as easily get down the way I came up and walk around to the ladders leading up to Neil's platform. I look over at Neil as he watches me expectantly, and suddenly feel rather under pressure to perform. I reach out and grasp the first bar tightly. I suppose there's no harm in giving it a go. Surely if small children are capable of doing this, then I can manage it? I take a deep breath and swing out. Negligible upper body strength, don't fail me now! I'm actually doing quite well until the third bar, when my arms suddenly become shaky. As I reach for the fourth, the inevitable happens and I slip. For some reason, my reflexes decide not to kick in quickly enough for my legs to catch me, and I fall straight on my arse with an audible thump. Well, that was all sorts of pathetic. I can hear Neil giggling as he jumps down from his platform to help me to my feet.

'Nice one, ya div!' he teases. 'Y'alright?'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' I say, laughing too so as to conceal my embarrassment. 'Just weak, graceless and clumsy in equal measures, it would seem.'

As I dust off my trousers, I become aware of a throbbing in my left hand. I bring it up into the light, poor as it is, for closer inspection. It looks like the friction from landing on the asphalt has caused the top few layers of skin on my palm to tear a little. Not enough to produce blood, thankfully. I can definitely do without a haemophobia-induced fainting spell furthering my humiliation. I brush some flecks of grit away from my injury as Neil looks on.

'Hurt yourself?' he asks gently.

'Just a graze, nothing to worry about. It's not even bleeding.'

Despite my insistence, he takes my wrist and peruses the superficial mark on my palm for himself. To my astonishment, he brings my hand up to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to the injured area. He clocks the perplexed look on my face and smiles, nonchalant.

'Always used to work when my dad did it.'

The myriad of "Neil's dad" jokes residing on the tip of my tongue are silenced by the genuine kindness in his voice. It's at that moment that I realise something - I'm probably never going to meet anyone as well-meaning as Neil again in my lifetime. I suddenly feel rather sad at the prospect of leaving him in September. He really is lovely... Before I even know I'm doing it, I'm leaning towards him. He watches me, unmoving as I slowly bring my mouth to meet his. I feel his jaw shift as he swallows hard, and the grip he has on my hand tightens slightly. God, his lips are ridiculously soft. Even the distinct scent of mustard isn't putting me off...

As soon as I realise what I'm doing, I jerk away, promptly tripping over my own feet and falling back down onto my arse. It actually hurt more than when I fell the first time, but I'm less concerned about that than I am about my mental anguish from having done something so unbelievably fucking stupid. As if having some sort of weird blowjob fantasy about him earlier wasn't bad enough, I have to outdo myself by kissing him too?!

'Oh, God!' I gasp. 'Shit! I'm so sorry, Neil! I don't know what I was thinking! Please forgive me!'

The glare from a lamppost behind him has rendered Neil an unreadable shadow. I can only imagine the expression on his face right now – I think I'd probably look pretty damn traumatized if one of my mates just randomly smooched me from out of nowhere! I squint as the lanky silhouette seems to shrug at me.

'S'okay. 'appens all the time.'

His tone of voice sounds unaffected enough – normal, even - but I still feel nothing short of mortified.

'I'm really sorry,' I whimper.

'Don't be. It was nice.'

'Was it?'

Neil suddenly drops down by my side and I can now see that he genuinely doesn't look upset with me. Quite the opposite, actually.

'Yeah. Nicest Valentine's Day kiss I've ever had, anyway. Didn't expect it. Surprises are nice, yeah?'

He grins at me, though probably more out of amusement than anything. Just like before, he offers me a hand up which I gingerly accept, and I'm hauled up onto my feet again. Unable to meet his eyes I lower my head, busying myself with dusting my clothes off as I continue to squirm internally. I can't believe how fucking idiotic I can be at times. I'm lucky that Neil's such a nice guy – a lesser man would have kicked the shit out of me by now, I'm sure of it. What the hell has gotten into me tonight? It must be something in the air. It's also entirely plausible that I'm just plain losing my mind.

Suddenly, I feel arms around me and Neil pulls me into a forceful hug. Okay... Rather an odd reaction to being kissed by another boy! Is he trying to console me or something? I awkwardly return the gesture, relaxing a bit when he gives my back a soothing rub. It's very kind of him to be so understanding about my horrific gaffe. He certainly doesn't need to be, considering what a complete and utter dickhead I've been. It's not long before I become aware of Neil's hands moving lower, but even this awareness isn't enough to diminish my surprise when his fingertips delicately caress my backside. When I pull back to face him, I'm met with a gaze that is both mischievous and affectionate. Admittedly, it's a strangely captivating combination, but why is he looking at me like... Oh. I see... The long fingers of one hand come up to brush against my cheek and all of a sudden, everything about tonight starts to make perfect sense...

I find myself powerless to do anything but relent when Neil leans in and kisses me firmly. As soon as those wonderfully soft lips touch mine again, my eyes close. My arms tighten around Neil and I shiver, despite the warmth of his body defending me from the cold night air. He makes a soft mumbling sound as he nuzzles his mouth against mine, softly and insistently. Part of me doesn't quite believe that this is happening, but a larger part doesn't seem to care. It's surreal, but in such a good way. He exhales softly against my lips, and I open my mouth to him as he moves in deeper. I suddenly taste ketchup, a vivid reminder of Neil's rousing performance at the bench. As if on cue, his agile tongue introduces itself to mine, tracing swirl patterns against the tip. I can only assume from his keenness that I somehow taste even better than his hotdog did. I blush, the same naughty feelings from earlier rising up inside me. Judging by how firmly he squeezes my backside, I'd imagine that Neil has similar thoughts in mind.

He backs me up until my back is against the framework of the jungle gym, pressing as close to me as he can possibly get. He lets out a silky moan as he kisses me a little more roughly, and I suddenly feel something prodding into my stomach. I hate to sound cliché, but either he has something hard concealed in his pocket or he's rather excited to see me. I can't help but wonder how long he's wanted to do this for. That's irrelevant information for now though – I'm not very well going to stop to ask him. I gently catch his tongue with my teeth and feel quite pleased with myself with he moans again. The hand caressing my face cautiously ghosts its way down my torso and I feel Neil's lips contort into a broad smile at what he finds when he arrives below my belt. He gives me a gentle squeeze, and I let out a hitching gasp into his mouth. Any further noises are muffled as Neil's tongue snakes its way back in between my lips. He rocks his hips against me, as if to highlight that he's just as wound up as I am. I acknowledge his actions with a faint groan, manoeuvring my tongue along the length of his as skilfully as I can manage. I can think of a few other skilful things I'd quite like to do with my tongue right now, though history suggests that Neil would probably be considerably better at them than me...

Before things can get too much more heated, Neil suddenly breaks away from my mouth. His eyes search mine intensely, his breath coming in short anxious pants. Is he waiting for some kind of feedback on this situation? I'm not sure what to say, so I simply shrug and smile shyly. That seems to satisfy him as he pulls me in close again, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. For a while he just holds me tightly, refusing to release me from his arms, and I find myself not wanting to let go either. Maybe it's because of the cold, or the idea that the time will soon come when we won't be seeing as much of each other anymore. Or maybe it's something that I hadn't even considered before tonight. I really don't wish to muddy the waters with logic and reason right now though. I just want to enjoy this for what it is – a rare happy ending to what started out as just another shitty Valentine's Day. I rest my head against Neil's shoulder, allowing myself a contented sigh when he nuzzles his face into my hair.

'Dad's out tonight,' he murmurs.

Once again, I opt for totally side-stepping any obvious jokes. 'Oh?'

'...Fancy comin' back to mine?' As soon as the words leave him, he tenses up. 'Not to-! I mean, we don't have to do nothin'! Not if you don't want to! Just...don't want ya to go 'ome yet, that's all.'

I smile to myself. He sounds even lovelier when he's flustered. Raising my head, I brush my lips against his inflamed cheek and assuredly take his hand in mine.

'Lead the way.'

..

AN: Apologies for the abrupt end, but this shit is long enough! I was going to give them some sexy-time in the park, but I thought to do so might ruin the overall sappiness of the story. Might save that sort of stuff for the next one... Anyway, thank you kindly for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you have a few minutes to spare, I'd love to know what you thought of it.

Oh, and with regards to Will/Jay stuff; I finally have a solid idea for a big long romance story for those two, but I want to get a few chapters written up for it before I post anything, so that I know I'm happy with where I'm going with it. Hopefully I can get something up soon. Watch this space.


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